


Valid Conclusions

by ShaneShenanigans



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Smutty Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneShenanigans/pseuds/ShaneShenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott has a bad habit of making out with the people Stiles wants to hold hands and suck face with. But at least this time, it’s not the full moon, and it’s not what it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valid Conclusions

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if I would put it in as a warning but Stiles might be a little OOC in that I didn't really sit there wondering for an hour whether it was OOC or not like I do with most of my fanfic writing. This fic was mostly just me vomiting self-indulgent text one night. But there's a lot of Stiles inner-monologue and I don't really have a lot of practice writing Stiles or a solid grasp on him, but criticism is welcome.

Stiles was surprised to get a text from Derek asking him to come to the loft. He assumed there was some work to be done on the supernatural front, but he didn't stop the corny side of his mind from running wild. What if Derek just wanted to see him? What if he got there and they were alone and Derek let Stiles eat his ass?

He sighed dreamily. But he'd never gone so far as to assume Derek Hale actually wanted to kiss him. Not that it was a huge deal-- Stiles always knew he had a better chance with Scott. Since Allison seemed to be pursuing Isaac, Scott's touches and looks had been prolonged. He'd squeeze Stile's upper arm just a little tighter, look in his eyes and seem to get a little lost. Scott’s face when he looked at someone he loved could warm any bystander’s heart, and lately that look had been for Stiles.

In his own words, Stiles was a romantic nightmare. He was in love with Lydia Martin, probably Scott too, and he at least had a massive crush on Derek Hale. He'd passed too much time just imagining himself in domestic relationships with any of the above, but in different ways. Lydia got the luxurious suite and weekly dinner dates and sheets littered with rose petals. Scott was a small, modest one-bedroom apartment for just the two of them and lots of post-video game sex. With Derek he lived with him in the loft and most of it happened to take place in Derek's comfy-looking bed. 

Either way, Lydia was seemingly taken, though she didn't like to admit feelings for Aiden, she didn’t read as on the market. So right now, Stiles had his fingers crossed that Scott or Derek would make a move if he dropped enough hints. All though, dropping hints to Derek seemed to always happen in the form of back-and-forth between the lines insults. It was plausible that Derek _actually_ hated him. Disappointing, but plausible.

But Scott was his best friend, and right now he seemed like the most promising chance at a boyfriend. But they weren't together yet so that didn't mean Stiles couldn't humor the idea that Derek had called him over for something a little sweatier than shop talk. 

Regardless, having two single men that he was interested in and not seeing any potential love interests for either of them besides himself was blissful. He felt as if it was just a matter of time before he was swapping spit with one of them. He wasn't sure he cared which one.

He made his way up to the loft, purposely behaving overly casual, or maybe he needed to be less casual? No, of course he should keep it casual...

By the time he made it to Derek's doorway, which was standing partially open, he was sweating and nervous and obsessed with the idea of Derek kissing the hell out of him. But what he saw when he looked inside stopped that thought like a derailing train.

Derek was there. And he _was_ kissing the hell out of someone. But it wasn't Stiles.

It was Scott.

Stiles's knees felt weak, and he nearly collapsed against the doorframe, but that would have made a sound. They hadn't noticed him yet and he didn't want them to know he'd seen them. With all the strength he could muster, he hurried out of sight, back down the hall, the stairs, and toward the exit. They could probably hear him, maybe smell him, but he didn't feel capable of caring.

He felt ridiculous and pathetic. He'd thought they... he didn't think there was anyway he'd lose both of the opportunities to someone else but he'd never considered losing them to each other.

He made it out to his jeep, and his phone in the passenger seat showed a missed call from Scott. He ignored it and pulled out as fast as he could, ignoring the next call from Derek as well, along with all their texts. He couldn't deal with this now. Not yet.

His phone rang again when he was half-way home, and the caller ID said 'Lydia'. Desperately, he reached over, answered and held it to his ear.

"Lydia! Can I come over?" He asked, with some desperation. He knew she wasn't single but he just needed a friend.

"Uh... are... you okay?" She asked.

Stiles paused, realizing he hadn't even said hello or asked why she'd called.

"Stiles?" She questioned when he didn't reply.

"Can I?" He asked again, in a small voice.

"Yeah, of course." Lydia answered with some haste. "I'll see you soon."

"See-ya." Stiles hung up and tossed the phone aside, and stepped on the gas. He needed to see her and he needed it now. He needed to see anything other than his own damn face in the rear view mirror.

o-o-o

"Scott and Derek?" Lydia's tone was gentle. She knew Stiles was interested in both of them because _of course she did_. She had to admit she didn't see this coming-- she was sure he'd end up with one of them, and her money had been on Derek. She hadn't noticed Scott or Derek showing interest in each other-- mostly Stiles. It didn't make sense to her.

"I think what bothers me most..." Stiles spoke slowly, his voice small and despondent. "...Scott knew I liked Derek..." his tone turned slightly bitter. "He didn't say anything to me before he went and..." Stiles trailed off. He didn't own Derek just because he liked him, but Scott was his best friend. He could have at least mentioned that he was going to make-out with the person he knew Stiles wanted. Again.

And it wasn't a full moon this time.

"Stiles..." Lydia started. "Scott wouldn't do this to you, it just doesn't sound like Scott."

"Are you saying the face-sucking was a misunderstanding? Maybe Derek's mouth tripped and fell onto Scott's face?"

Lydia sighed. "No. I'm just saying maybe it was one-sided."

"It wasn't. I saw it. It was very mutual, very intense." He remembered Derek's fingers woven into Scott's hair as Scott's fist curled into Derek's shirt and he started to feel sick.

"Maybe Scott was too polite to--"

"I know what I saw, Lydia." Stiles turned to face her pointedly to emphasize his certainty. "It was a real kiss. Passionate, like the kind of kiss that happens when you both finally get what you wanted."

Lydia looked back at him, her expression filled with sympathy but not sure what to say.

A moment later she noticed Stiles's eyes had flicked to her lips and she quickly leaned away. "Stiles."

"Sorry." Stiles said, his voice barely a squeak. "I didn't mean..." he cut himself off, looking down at his hands as they curled into Lydia's bedsheets. He felt sick-- he'd felt sick since he first saw them together but it was only getting worse the more he thought about it. He needed a distraction.

"I just don't..." he shook his head. "I don't get it." He raised his eyes, and looked straight at her.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked, and there was no rhetoric. He wanted to know. Why he was so repulsive. Why no one wanted him back. Why someone else was always better. "Don't answer that." He said quickly, because the moment he started asking, a million reasons as to why he was no good flooded his mind. The answers were obvious, they were always obvious and he always tried anyway.

He leaned in to her while looking at her lips, completely impulsively, because they were there and it was Lydia and of course he wanted to kiss Lydia. She leaned away from him because _of course she did._

"Stiles." She said, and he looked away.

"I didn't..." Stiles stood up from the bed, not feeling comfortable next to her anymore, and ruffled the back of his hair as he started to pace.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Stiles." Lydia said, a little exhausted from trying to put this together. It still made no season to her that Scott would ever do something like this without telling Stiles. There had to be something else going on. "You should talk to Scott."

"I don't want to talk to Scott, Lydia." Stiles insisted. "He made a choice, he doesn't owe me anything, and I just need..." He turned around again, in a full circle, and then stepped once to the left and then to the right, like he was looking for something he could have that would make it okay.

“He’s your best friend, Stiles.” Lydia was suddenly in front of him, her hand placed gently on his upper arm, even as he refused to meet her eyes. “He doesn’t have to owe you anything to want you to be okay.”

Stiles breathed in deeply. “And if he has any idea that you know about this, he’s got to be worried.”

Stiles gave a weak nod, and Lydia’s lips quirked into a smile as she lifted one arm to hold it out and invite him into a hug. Stiles accepted, walking into her and wrapping his arms around her. Her back was facing the doorway, and when Stiles placed his chin on her shoulder, he had eyes on it. More importantly, he saw Scott, standing there in it.

Stiles backed away from Lydia, eyes fixed on him as Lydia turned to face him as well.  She gave him a critical look, despite the deep regret that was all over Scott’s face as he stood there. Worse, his hair was mussed like hands had been in it, making it all too obvious that there was nothing mild or chaste about the kiss.

“Scott.” Lydia greeted, not sure what to say to him.

“Lydia…” Scott tried. “Can I talk to Stiles?” He asked, and Lydia heaved a sigh, turning to Stiles for his opinion. Stiles looked on guard, but nodded to her to confirm that she could leave them alone. She gave Scott one last look of warning, and then left the room.  o-o-o 1 hour earlier o-o-o-o

“Derek?” Scott’s voice rang throughout the loft, and Derek shifted in his sleep at the sound of it. “Derek, you here?” Part of Derek hoped Scott wouldn’t find him so he could sleep. But that was a long shot considering his king-sized bed wasn’t exactly hidden.

  “Derek!” Scott’s voice tone had changed, the way a puppy barks when it spots the rodent it was sniffing about for, and in seconds, Scott was standing at his bedside. “You’re… still asleep?”

Derek rolled over, groaning. “I _was_.” He confirmed.

“Sorry.” Scott seemed amused, smiling down at Derek like he was making fun of him.  “Do you normally sleep this late?” He asked.

Derek sat up. “No.” He huffed. “But I was wounded last night. By an alpha. Ring a bell?”

“Sorry…” Scott still sounded guilty. But it was at least the hundredth apology since it happened, and Derek had forgive him before the first one. Long story short, they’d been sparring, which was what they’d taken up doing on occasion since the supernatural world seemed to be in an off-season. Scott had gotten a little too into it and left five relatively deep alpha-scratches down Derek’s side.  

“By the look on your face I’m guessing the town isn’t under attack.” Derek said. “Why’d you come?” He shifted to roll onto the side opposite the one that had been wounded. It was completely healed on the outside— though the inside was a little bit sore, he’d be fine in a few more hours.

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Scott said. Derek moved to the edge of the bed as he pushed off the covers. He was wearing black sweatpants and nothing on top, not even the bandage. He must’ve taken it off during the night.

“I’ll be fine.” Derek replied. He stood up, directly in front of Scott, who quickly moved out of his way without a word and his eyes fixed meaningfully on the ground. They stayed on the ground as Derek moved past him to grab a shirt, and Derek remembered Erica mentioning something about Stiles and refusal to look anywhere but her eyes on a day when she had particularly good cleavage.

“Hey Derek…” Scott started, and Derek looked over his shoulder at him as he pulled a grey tank-top over his head.

“About last night…” He said.

Derek sighed heavily to cut him off. “Do we have to do this now?” He asked.

“Uh, well.” Scott sounded irritated. “I haven’t really been able to think about anything else since, so it would be nice…”

Derek looked at him critically. He hadn’t meant to kiss Scott. Well— okay, he’d meant it in that he wanted to and he didn’t regret it, but he knew it was a bad idea considering things around him that he’d been working toward.  

But he was there, sitting up on the operating table at the clinic, holding Derek upright with a cloth pressed against the wound while they waited for Deaton to arrive. Derek was losing blood and felt dizzy and maybe a little euphoric somehow, and Scott’s face had been so close. His voice had been loud, telling Derek he was sorry over and over again and that he’d be fine, it would be fine. Derek liked the sound of Scott’s voice but it seemed amplified and he was having trouble controlling his senses, it was making the pain worse because it sounded like Scott was shouting, but he couldn’t speak to tell him to stop.  

Derek had also liked the way Scott’s lips moved, the way they shook frantically— he couldn’t take his eyes off them. He didn’t like how much Scott was panicking. Derek would be fine, he’d just lost too much blood on the way here. He needed Scott to calm down and be quiet and his mouth looked soft and Derek wanted it still and calm against his.

So he kissed him. They were still together for the longest time, mouth-to-mouth, until Scott pulled away, and watched Derek smile. Derek felt a little more coherent now— actually a lot.

“Helps with the pain.” He drawled, smirking. Scott still looked to be in shock, but he brought himself out of it a moment later.

“Painkillers.” Scott nodded, and Derek nodded back. 

“Okay.” Scott kissed him again, and this time his lips moved against Derek’s. Derek couldn’t really move back, but he tried a little, telling himself that the next time he saw Scott when he wasn’t ready to pass out, he’d show him how well he could _really_ kiss.

  Fast-forward to that moment, and all Derek really wanted to do now was forget about it, because there were other factors he hadn’t considered when he was on the verge of unconsciousness.

“Why’d you kiss me?” Scott asked.

“Why’d you kiss me?” Derek responded, not missing a beat and with a childishly mocking tone.

“You said it helped with the pain.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously?” Was Scott actually going to pretend that was the reason?

Scott huffed with frustration. “This…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So this was nothing?”

“Nothing?” Derek didn’t like the sound of that either.

 _“I thought you liked Stiles!”_ Scott barked, rather insistently, frustrated with the lack of straight answers. Derek froze.

Scott studied him, heard his heart beat pick up just slightly when Scott said those words, and then heard him breath deeply to force it to even out. Even without that, the silence and the look on his face gave it away for sure.

“You do like Stiles.” He stated. He’d suspected before, but now he was sure.  

“ _You_ like Stiles!” Derek threw it back at him once again and Scott rolled his eyes.

“Obviously.” Scott agreed. No part of him came here to get into a weird argument that was laced with accusations and denial. “We both like Stiles, Derek.”

Derek didn’t say anything— which also meant he didn’t say no.

“Do we like each other?” Scott asked, and Derek huffed, like he thought it was nonsense or maybe like he didn’t want to be asked that right now. Scott didn’t understand what the big deal was, if this thing existed in all three of them, wasn’t that a good thing? Or maybe Derek was too old-fashioned, or just the jealous type.

“I like you.” Scott said, a little lamely, a little embarrassed, and knowing he was giving Derek the power to make him feel a lot worse. “I mean, I didn’t really know it until you kissed me last night, but…”  

Derek sighed with frustration. This was typical Scott. Romantic interest only hit him if it was like a brick, and always made him all suddenly starry-eyed.

“Stiles should be here for this.” Derek said, decidedly. He was already texting Stiles before Scott could get a word out, but Scott didn’t try to stop him.

  “Is this happening?” Scott was the one in disbelief now.

“Why not?” Derek shrugged.

“Your heart’s beating fast.” Scott said, calling him out on how cool he was trying to act right now.

“So’s yours.” If Derek through one more observation back in his face Scott was going to shout at him. Now they were waiting for Stiles, but it wasn’t the most comfortable situation, as Derek was just standing there still at least thirty feet away, and Scott didn’t dare get closer either.

  Scott didn’t know what they were going to say to Stiles, or where to start.

Derek figured maybe they’d just show instead of tell and maybe if he was lucky he’d be one slice of bread on a Stiles sandwich. He wouldn’t have minded being the center of the sandwich either, but he was more interested in feeling Stiles lose it under his and Scott’s hands— because he would. Stiles would get completely lost and he’d writhe and beg and squirm between them and it would have been— was going to be— the sexiest thing he’d ever witness.

Scott noticed that Derek’s hands had curled into tight fists at his sides, and his dark eyes seemed to have drifted off to someplace else.  “Derek?” He questioned, and those darkened eyes flicked to him. “You okay?”

Derek hummed, and crossed the room quickly, looking down, until he got to his bed and sat. He needed to stop thinking about these things— they needed to talk first. Derek didn’t like talking, but hell would freeze over if Stiles could ever do anything without a preceding monologue and Scott would want a solid verbal agreement too.

Scott sat down next to him on the bed, eyes fixed on the floor. Right now, sitting next to Derek, he felt like he did back when he and Stiles got in trouble with the Sheriff or his mom and they both ended up swimming in guilt, sitting side-by-side on the couch awaiting punishment. This wasn’t anything like punishment, but it was the same sort of anticipation.

He kind of hated it.

“Derek.” Scott huffed out with frustration, and leaned back onto his hands. His voice was kind of a mix between a groan and a whine and before he knew what was happening, Derek was almost on top of him. Derek’s hand had landed on top of his, fingers lacing with his, and his lips came down on Scott’s as Scott met them halfway and kissed him eagerly.

Derek’s hands had tangled themselves in Scott’s hair before Scott could so much as remember that he owned hands, but when he did they gathered fists of Derek’s shirt, tugging him closer. Derek grunted and then there was rough tongue and teeth, and Scott wasn’t used to it but he just about loved it.  He didn’t hear that anyone had come in until they were already leaving. Both he and Derek caught the scent at the same time just as it disappeared, and they panicked.

  o-o-o Present o-o-o 

“Hey.” Stiles greeted, and Scott’s breath picked up.

“Stiles, I know you saw us, but—.”

“It’s okay.” Stiles interrupted, his voice low and hoarse and tired-sounding. Scott knew that voice from Stiles, and it was never the voice Stiles used when anything was okay.

“That’s the thing, it’s not what you think, okay?” Scott came into the room almost too fast, to the point where Stiles tensed and scowled as if warning Scott not to come near him, and Scott stopped abruptly. 

“You knew I…” Stiles couldn’t say the words. He’d already been over this with Lydia. “I mean, honestly, you don’t even have the full moon to fall back on this time, so. I mean, just…” Stiles realized he was rambling and saying things he hadn’t meant to say, so he stopped.

“Stiles.” Scott used his Serious Alpha voice, and Stiles sighed harshly and critically at the sound of it. “I didn’t know any of that was going to happen, it just happened. If I’d known I would have told you, I swear.”

“It’s okay, man.” Stiles said. “I get it.” He didn’t get it, probably would never get it, didn’t even want to get it, but it didn’t exactly matter anymore. “You’re with Derek.”

“Yes! I am.” Scott said, and the sure-fire confirmation hurt— it really did, and Stiles wondered now if that was the only reason Scott had come here. To hurt him. 

Scott noticed the way his face fell and realized he was saying all the wrong things. “Look, Stiles, just come to Derek’s with me and—.”

“And what? Watch you guys play happy-couple?” Stiles interrupted. Now this was just getting pathetic. What the hell was Scott trying to pull?

“No, Stiles! I’m saying I want you to be with us!”

“For what? When you exchange wedding vows? What the hell, Scott!”

“I mean all of us! Together! We want you…” He stopped, because the look on Stiles’s face finally suggested that something had clicked. “We want you to be in this too.” He finished, hoping he didn’t have to make it clearer than that.

Stiles started at him, mouth a gape, for at least five seconds before he managed a slightly squeaky “Oh.”

“Stiles.” Scott came closer, very close, so close Stiles could feel his breath and so close that there was nowhere Stiles’s eyes wanted to look except Scott’s mouth and so close that he needed to be kissing him. It had been a long, horrible day and he just needed a kiss.

“Come back with me.” Scott’s voice was low and husky and Stiles swallowed hard before nodding, and leaning in to touch his lips to Scott’s... only to have him back away.

“Let’s get Derek first.” Scott said in almost a whisper, and Stiles groaned loudly and stomped his foot twice in frustration. Scott grinned because he thought it was adorable and Stiles kind of wanted to wipe that damn grin off his face. With his tongue.

Scott backed out of the room with that same smug expression that Stiles loathed and adored and Stiles rolled his eyes before following, but couldn’t keep the little smirk off his face.

“All right let’s go.” Stiles was suddenly moving quickly past him. Lydia was in the hall, seemingly having just walked out of her room. “Lydia.” Stiles caught her by the shoulders, and she squeaked as he left a sloppy kiss on her forehead and the continued in the direction of her staircase.  

Her confused eyes locked with Scotts but Scott didn’t seem like he knew how to stop smiling and give her an explanation right now. She’d seen that look on him before and she doubted he was capable of answering questions.

Not that it mattered, they were clearly both on disturbingly good terms again, and that’s all she needed to know. So she simply anticipated the sound of her front door shutting behind them, and then went back to her room to finish up that day’s assigned homework.  

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a smutty epilogue coming. We'll see.


End file.
